


Walking Pneumonia

by justspn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 9 and 13, Brave Dean, Bully john, Caring Dean Winchester, Life at Bobby's, Preseries, Sick Sam Winchester, Sick on the road, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 04:38:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11524716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justspn/pseuds/justspn
Summary: Sam is sick and Dean stands up to John so Sam can get better.





	Walking Pneumonia

Dean laughed at the comic he just read and looked up from the paper to see where Sam was. He would find it hilarious. Dean didn’t see him anywhere.  
“Sam?” Dean called. Bobby looked over from his spot at the table.

 

“Where is he?” Bobby asked. Dean shrugged and stood up to find his little brother. He went up the stairs to the room they shared and saw Sam huddled under his blankets.

 

“Sammy?” Dean asked, crossing the room. Sam poked his head out from the blankets and looked blearily at Dean. “You okay?” 

 

“Don’t feel good De.” Sam whined. 

 

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked, sitting next to Sam on the bed. He felt for his brother’s forehead. It was hot.

 

“I’m cold and my throat hurts and my head hurts and I’m tired.” Sam whispered, snuggling into Dean’s side. 

 

“Sounds like you’re getting a cold. Sorry bud.” Dean ruffled Sam’s hair. “Let’s move you downstairs and Bobby will get you some medicine, okay?” 

 

Sam nodded and slowly got out of the bed. His little 9 year old feet shuffled across the floor to the stairs. Dean watched as he made his way out of the room, blanket still wrapped around his skinny frame. Dean smiled and followed his little brother down to the living room where they plopped down on the couch and turned on the Saturday morning cartoons. 

 

“Well well, got a sick one here?” Bobby asked coming to the living room from the kitchen. Dean nodded and pulled the blanket up over Sam’s shoulder. “What’s wrong boy?” Bobby asked Sam. 

 

“Don’t feel good sir,” Sam said hoarsely. 

 

“I can see that kid. What doesn’t feel good?”

 

“Head, throat, nose. I’m real tired.” Sam listed off, eyes slipping shut. Bobby felt his forehead and went into the kitchen to find his med kit.

 

“Stick this in your mouth,” Bobby said handing Sam a thermometer. “Let’s hope you don’t get the rest of us sick.”

 

Sam curled into the back of the couch, pulling the blanket with him as he went. 

 

“Well, you’ve got a fever." Bobby said, taking the thermometer back. He took out some Tylenol and poured it in Sam’s outstretched palm. Sam popped the pills in his mouth and winced as he swallowed them with some water. “Take it easy and let me know if you feel worse, okay kiddo?” 

 

Sam nodded and closed his eyes again. All he wanted to do was sleep. He felt Bobby rub the top of his head and Dean sit by his feet. Here he felt totally safe and knew he could get better faster then when John kept them on the road. It was hard to sleep in the back of the Impala sometimes, especially when Sam’s nose was stuffy. 

XXXXX

Sam woke with a start, confused because someone was carrying him. 

 

“Dad?” Sam asked, his voice coming out as a whisper. 

 

“It’s okay Sammy, we just have to hit the road. Go back to sleep.” John said as he lowered Sam into the backseat of the Impala. 

 

“But… Why can’t I stay with Bobby?” Sam asked. He could hear the whine in his voice and knew John hated when he did that, but sometimes he couldn’t help it. He felt miserable and didn’t want to be on the road. 

 

“Dean and I need to go far, far away and I need you with us in case Bobby needs to go on a hunt. He can’t just stay home to watch you.” John said gruffly. 

 

Sam felt his eyes well up with tears but kept them silent as John pulled out of Bobby’s driveway. He saw Bobby wave from the front steps, which made him cry harder. He curled into a ball and pulled a blanket over his head so John wouldn’t see him being a baby. He felt a hand on his feet and peeked out to see Dean’s hand resting there, thumb rubbing in small circles to help him calm down. 

 

Dean was pretty sure Sam was sleeping when he spoke.

 

“He's still sick. We could’ve stayed a few more days.” 

 

“Dean, don’t start this with me. I’m not in the mood.” John said, rubbing his beard tiredly. 

 

“I understand that we need to go. But he hates being sick and being on the road at the same time.” Dean said, trying to convince John to turn back around before they got too far from Bobby’s.

 

“We all hate being sick, Dean. He needs to get used to it. It's what hunters do. You know that.”

 

“I know. I just don’t want him to get worse. I haven’t seen him this bad in a long time.” Dean said quietly. Rain was starting to drip from the windshield to the window he was starting out, running in rivers to the back window. 

 

“I’m sure he’ll be just fine. Kids his age get better real quick.” John said, his tone softening a little. He knew Dean meant well. 

 

XXXXX

 

Sam shrugged out of his drenched rain coat and crawled into the corner of the backseat of the Impala. He was shivering and he couldn’t pull a full breath into his lungs. He saw Dean push the raincoats onto the floor of the car and pull a blanket out from under the seat. Dean covered Sam with it, gently pulling off his soaked sneakers and socks, and held his toes to warm them up before tucking them safely under the blanket. He reached up and felt Sam’s forehead. He was still burning up. “Shit Sammy. I wish I could make you feel better.”

 

“It's okay Dean. I’m okay.” Sam whispered, teeth chattering. 

 

“That’s bullshit if I’ve ever heard it. I’ll see what I can do about stopping for a few days, let you get better, okay?” Dean said, tucking Sam in again. Sam nodded and let his eyes slip shut. He was so, so tired. Had been for what felt like weeks even though it had only been three days since they left the safety of Bobby’s. 

 

Dean got into the front seat and kicked off his own soaked shoes and socks while he waited for John to get into the drivers seat. He reached over and turned the car on, blasting the heat to get the dampness out of the air. Dean was cold, so he couldn't imagine how cold Sam must feel with a fever. 

 

John climbed into the Impala and looked over at Dean. Dean was scowling at him.“What’s your problem?” John asked, pulling off his raincoat and stuffing it on the floor with the others. 

 

“Sam is my problem.” Dean answered, glancing over his shoulder at Sam. Sam had pulled the blanket totally over his head and Dean couldn’t tell if he was sleeping or not. 

 

“What did he do this time? You know I can’t be telling you kids what toy is whose and what shirt belongs to who for much longer. You need to figure that out.”

 

“He didn’t do anything. He’s still sick, and getting worse.” Dean said. He could see Sam’s form shaking under the blanket. “We need to stop for a few days. We’re almost out of Tylenol and it’s not safe for him to have a fever this long.”

 

“If he’s not better by the time we get to Denver then we’ll stop and see a doctor, okay?” John said, driving full speed even though he could hardly see through the windshield. 

 

“That’s at least two more days! Dad, he’s not getting any better!” Dean exclaimed, feeling blood rise to his face in anger. 

 

“Dean, look. I know you’re worried about him but he hasn't said anything to me about it. If it’s real bad, he’ll say something.” 

 

Dean rolled his eyes and clenched a fist in his lap. He could feel his nails digging into his palm. “He did say something at Bobby’s, you just didn’t listen. He hasn’t said anything else because he doesn’t want you to think he’s weak or a pansy. He’s gonna knock his teeth out with the way they’re chattering right now.”

 

John paused. “Dean, you’re pushing my patience. If he’s cold climb back there with him and warm him up. I’ll keep the heat up. We’ll stop in Denver. Is that understood?”

 

“Yessir.” Dean ground out through clenched teeth. He climbed over the front seat and landed with a thud next to Sam. Sam pulled the blankets downs he could see Dean. He could tell Dean was really mad. Dean took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair. He patted Sam’s feet. “Move over a little Sammy. Let me warm you up.” 

 

Sam scooted over and Dean sat leaning against the window so Sam could lay in his lap and soak up some of Dean’s body heat. “It’s okay Dean. I’ll be okay—“ Sam started coughing. He had been trying not to cough because it was painful and lasted awhile. He winced as he kept coughing and coughing. Finally Dean sat him up and pounded on his back, loosening the phlegm in his chest. Sam coughed the phlegm up and tried to catch his breath.

John was watching this happen in the rearview mirror and slowed the car to a stop on the side of the road as Sam’s eyes widened in panic.

 

“Can’t breath! De! I can’t breath!” Sam whimpered, pulling at the neck of his shirt. 

 

“Sammy, calm down. Look at me, look at me. Go in through your nose and out through your mouth. Slow yourself down. It’ll be okay.” Dean coached as he held Sam’s arms above his head. He glared at John. John turned in his seat to look at Sam. He reached out and felt his forehead. Guilt fell like a rock in John’s stomach. Dean hadn’t been making up how much worse Sam had gotten over the past three days. 

 

“It’s okay Sammy. Just relax, okay? I’m gonna find us a place to stop for the night. You can take a warm shower and use all the blankets, okay? Just relax. You’re okay.” John said, brushing Sam’s hair out of his face. Sam nodded, his face shockingly pale even in the gray light of the rain. 

 

Dean sighed and caught Sam’s eye. “In slow, out slow, easy does it. You’re okay. Do you want some water?”

 

Sam shook his head and tried to breathe around the rattling in his chest. It felt like his lungs were half full of water and he couldn’t cough any of it up. Dean’s ‘in through the nose, out through the mouth’ method worked, but Sam still felt panic rising up in the back of his throat. Dean noticed and shook his head.

 

“You’re okay Sammy, just relax. We’ll get you feeling better in no time.” Dean said. He was nervous. A could or the flu wouldn’t make it hard for Sam to breathe like this. He pulled Sam into his lap and pulled the blanket after him. He tucked Sam in and laid a hand on Sam’s chest. He could feel the rattling of the fluid stuck there. 

 

After a few minutes Sam had calmed down enough to fall back asleep. 

 

“How’s he doing?” John asked as he drove though the rain.

 

“Not good. I can feel all the fluid stuck in his lungs when he breathes.” Dean said quietly, not wanting to wake his sleeping brother. 

 

“Shit, that sounds like pneumonia. We’ll be stopped for a week.” John muttered.

 

“Would you rather him get sicker? I’ve never seen him this bad.” Dean said. He saw John shake his head. 

 

“No son. I understand. I’ll stop at the next decent place I see.” John said. 

 

XXXXX

 

Sam woke up in a bed. He looked next to him. Dean was still sleeping, but John had disappeared. Sam struggled to sit up. He needed a drink. His chest felt impossibly tight and it hurt to breathe. His head was swimming, like he still had a fever. They’d been in this hotel for a day now, and he knew John was getting antsy to pack up and move on. 

 

Dean felt Sam moving around and opened his eyes. He had been awake since John got up to get breakfast but didn’t feel like getting out of bed. “You okay Sammy?” Dean asked, sitting up too.

 

“My chest feels too tight. It’s hard to breathe.” Sam whispered. He looked absolutely miserable. Dean reached over and felt his forehead. 

 

“You still have a fever. When Dad gets back from getting breakfast I’ll tell him to take you to a doctor.” Dean said. 

 

“But, Dean,” Sam started.

 

“No. You need to go get checked out. This isn’t a normal cold. It could get way worse.” Dean said.

 

“I don’t want to cause any trouble. I know Dad hates taking us to the doctor.” Sam said quietly, sliding back under the covers. 

 

“Sam, we can’t ignore this any longer.” Dean said, lying next to him. “People die from pneumonia. I can’t let you die.” 

 

“I won’t die Dean.” Sam said looking over at Dean. Dean wouldn't meet his gaze, but pulled the blankets up higher and turned the TV on. 

 

“Get some rest Sam. Dad will be back soon. I can tell you’re wiped out.” 

 

Sam gave in to his exhaustion and closed his eyes, falling asleep almost at once. 

 

John came back a little while later with some bagels and milk. “How is he?” He asked as he set breakfast out on the little table by the window. 

 

“Not any better. He needs to see a doctor. Today.” Dean said, crawling out of bed without disturbing Sam. “He can’t breathe.” 

 

“I found a doctor’s office not far from here. I’ll bring him after we eat and see what’s up.” 

 

“And once we do, we need to stay here until he’s better. We both know he hates being sick on the road. He’s getting too tall for the backseat and it takes so long for him to be himself again when we’re on the road.”

 

“Dean,” John started.

 

“No, we need to stay. I won’t let you leave yet. Not until he’s better.” Dean insisted. 

 

Sam cracked his eyes open and felt guilty that Dean might get in trouble for standing up for him. He never wanted Dean to get in trouble. Especially for him. 

 

XXXXX

 

Sam and Dean were snuggled in the backseat of the Impala while John was inside the pharmacy getting the prescription for Sam’s, yes Dean was right, pneumonia. Sam turned his head to look at Dean.

 

"Thanks for standing up for me De. I really hate being sick in the car, and this is the worst I’ve felt in a long time.” 

 

“I know Sammy. I won’t let him bully us anymore. I’ve had enough of it. Both he and I know that you feel shitty, he needs to man up and let you get better before pushing onto the next hunt. I won’t let him leave until you’re better. Don’t worry.” Dean said, hugging Sam. 

 

Sam let Dean hug him and felt a smile pull at his lips. As safe as he felt at Bobby’s, he felt almost as safe in Dean’s arms.


End file.
